The Primordial Record

“Do not dare call me by that name!” the Primordial Beast screamed as Reality shattered at his rage-filled voice.

“Then stop me,” Rowan said and shattered the locks holding him bound in the flesh of immortals, and his size exploded. His Will of Truth no longer had to simulate his true form to all of Reality.

Radiance shot from his flesh that was brighter than a million burning universes, and his dimensional flesh, unbound, emerged.

Rowan could not take this form in Reality; the fabric of existence was simply too weak to support his real weight. Only in this space made by the Primordial Beast Bahamut could Rowan fully unleash his strength.

It was a great reason Rowan decided to battle in this place; unless he traveled to Limbo, nowhere else in Reality would he be able to unleash the strength of such magnitude, at least not for the time being.

Reality was rapidly changing, and perhaps it would be enough to hold him in the future, but before that time arrives, Rowan will find his true capabilities in this battle.

Weapons, spells, armor, all his usual methods of battle would either be set aside or pushed to a level that would break them, and in this battle, Rowan knew he had only two great weapons that could participate in a fight of this level, and that was his Origin Bloodlines and the power that came from his Class, and the second weapon was the Destroyer and the power that came from his Titles.

Andar, in the distance, beheld this creature and the proper form of his father. His soul shattered to pieces, and for the entirety of his life, Andar knew that he would never forget what he saw.

Andar perceived that his father subtly enhanced his perception, and that was the only reason he was able to glean so much about the higher dimension, and he was immensely grateful for this gift.

He died with a smile on his lips before he was turned to nothing from the radiance of the universes that Rowan had spawned with a clap from his hands.

In the brief moment separating death from life, Andar saw their true form and went mad. Only the cleansing hands of death and Rowan’s grace ensured that the corruption from seeing their true form did not destroy him.

The Primordial Beast and Rowan were not made from flesh and bone but seemed to be carved from living concepts, like a living paradox made from the raw fabrics of higher dimensions that Andar had no name for.

He feared that he would never perceive their true form, and despite this revelation, he was merely seeing their shadows. Andar realized that everything he was, his dimension, his powers, were all fleeting shadows before the real thing. Every immortal in existence was playing with swords made from fog, while only these true gods could wield the might of existence.

‘We are so small, so fucking small!”

Where Rowan was made from clean lines and geometric wonders that were still filled with countless charms despite how alien it appeared to Andar’s senses, the Primordial Beast was a collapsing infinity of jaws, limbs, and eyes spiraling into an unknown reality.

He tried not to see the intent behind the Primordial Beast’s body. Andar knew that this was the line he could not cross, and if he did, Rowan might be unable to save him.

His soul was gone, but a purple Soul Origin bloomed in the Origin Land.

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Andar had been able to see so much, but it was a mere fragment of Rowan’s perception.

In the shape of this beast, Rowan saw his future. As much as it filled him with awe, there was also a jarring dissonance in his mind when he knew he possessed as many higher-dimensional characteristics as this beast, but his perception was still catching up to his nature.

To Rowan’s senses, Bahamut was a shifting mass of recursive geometries, his shape impossible for an immortal mind to describe.

Each of his limbs split into smaller versions of itself, endlessly repeating like a cosmic Maldebrot set. Its “skin” is a lattice of folded space-time, shimmering with non-Euclidian angles.

This great beast lay upon countless memories of the past and unknown futures. The fates and destinies of myriad beings were his bed, and Rowan saw that this horde of information was the center of this creature’s greed. The beast would lay there for all eternity and slowly harvest all that was and was to come—a silent Reaper.

The first Primordial Beast that Rowan had seen and consumed had the appearance of a woman with the horns of a goat. Nothing like this nightmarish visage was before him, but he knew this was a Primordial Beast’s original form.

These creatures that should have existed before the dawn of creation were not something mortals or immortals should be able to perceive, but since Rowan was becoming more like this with every passing moment, this shape seemed fitting to his senses.

With millions of burning universes as the light for their battle, Rowan lunged forward. He still kept his humanoid shape, but his body could shrink and stretch in a manner that defied imagination, and his skin glowed with light and darkness as if quadrillions of bright universes were the fabrics of his skin.

His arms shift across space-time, extending across multiple-dimensional spaces and expanding as he reaches across the distance that separates them. His intent is to tear this beast in two, but Bahamut unexpectedly explodes into motion.

The Primordial Beast’s body did not move across space; instead, it unfolded, phasing through dimensions like a knife through layers of paper. Despite how durable this unknown space was, it still shrieked with pain at the passage of this beast as it bled dark matter.

Rowan’s eyes shone at the movements of this beast, and his powerful consciousness began to decipher the motions he had used. Watching a ninth-dimensional creature cut across space-time was an enlightening experience, and Rowan could imagine a thousand uses for this knowledge.

Nevertheless, he had not anticipated the speed at which Bahamut could move. One moment, he had been laying onto twisted dimensions made from the shattered memories, and the next, he was so close that its stench filled Rowan’s senses before horns made from collapsing superblackholes the size of a million dimensions folded together slammed into Rowan’s chest.

“BOOM!”

The impact shattered tens of thousands of the floating burning universes and sent a shockwave through space and time, impacting the past and changing the present, as a thousand collisions happened at the same time across the past and present.

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